Of Blood, Salt, and Gold
by Dopethrone
Summary: Ryou is more than ecstatic when he lands the internship of a lifetime with respected archaeologist Isis Ishtar. Not to mention he'll have a hand in piecing together the mystery that is the legendary Thief King of Ancient Egypt. What he isn't ecstatic about, however, is how a local pickpocket has become fixated on him, among other beings hiding in the shadows. AU
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh otherwise shit would be a hellova lot different I mean really.

This is an idea I've been playing with for awhile, and I sincerely hope it all turns out how I intend it to turn out. (wow redundant much but yeah)

Also this will be gemshipping just to clarify.

ANYWAY thanks for clicking and enjoy. C: AND SO IT BEGINS.

* * *

It gurgled, foamed, bubbled, and sloshed. Sick and putrid.

Viscous black and molten gold threatened to spill over metal edges. A massive cauldron contained the rancid liquid. Its surface emitted a hellish heat, and reeked of burning flesh. Its glow, unnatural and foreboding, bounced off walls and cast a light over each corner of the small room.

The young man's hand was clamped over his face, blocking off the foul smell. His limbs felt stiff and incapable of motion. The stench alone made his stomach churn. The sight added to his revulsion, conjuring horrendous, sanguine images. He slowly lowered his hand, slick from sweat and his own spit, and concentrated on steadying his breathing. Arms hung at his sides, loosely and awkwardly, as he began to drag himself towards the steaming cauldron. The offending odor almost made him vomit on the spot. He raised his hand, trembling slightly, almost as if to touch the searing metal, but left it hovering.

"This..." his voice trailed, "it...i-it can't be..."

Words snagged in his throat at the sound of approaching footsteps. He froze.

"You've been quite the nuisance, haven't you?"

He couldn't turn, didn't want to turn. His eyes remained glued to the cauldron, hair bristling on the back of his neck. He remained silent.

The voice laughed, hollow and crisp. "I must admit, I'm surprised you've made it this far." Footsteps became louder as the voice neared. "A silly boy like you?" A scoff. "Why would you ever be a bother to me?" The bitterness tainted an otherwise amused tone.

The young man turned around slowly, tense. He kept his head low, eyes attentive to the other man's movements. The man smirked.

"No eye contact? How cheeky of you."

The young man refused to look up.

"I have to say," the older man continued. "You have gotten under my skin. I would have never expected you to see past my ruse."

The younger man lifted his head slightly, eyes still averted. The older man clicked his tongue.

"You turned out to be quite bold, and dare I say, _naughty_."

He shivered, revolted.

The younger man's skin began to crawl. He shot up his hand instinctively, grabbing the other man's wrist as it inched closer to his face. The older man laughed loudly at his reaction. "Still don't trust me? I thought we were passed such silliness."

His hand on the wrist tightened, then released. His eyes finally locked with his, feeling white hot anger boil in the pit of his stomach. "Why?" he simply asked, voice strained.

The older man gave an exasperated sigh. "Why?" he repeated slowly, studying the younger man closely. He shook his head. "Hmm, you're not as smart as I thought you were."

The younger man glared daggers at him. He flinched as the hand was brought to his face again, this time clasping his chin between long fingers. His breathing became shallow as his pulse quickened. He tried to pull away, but the grip was too tight. Eyes darted from side to side, scanning the walls, his surroundings.

Trapped.

"I thought we understood each other," the older man purred, his grip tightening painfully. "Someone like you who has _pursued _me since you stepped foot on this land should at least have an inkling of what my motives are."

The younger boy felt nauseous, unable to rip himself away from the man. "Guess not," he hissed.

A heavy pause fell between the two, silence only broken by the sloshing of the cauldron. The younger man attempted to slow his beating heart, breathing in and out carefully.

He studied the other man's face for a moment. Blank. Empty.

He dared to raise his hand to grab his wrist, attempting to pull the man's hand away from his face. A hand shot out to grab it before it came near its target, promptly yanking it down to his side. The younger man yelped in pain.

The older man smirked at the sound. "I have a problem," he drawled, twisting his arm. "A problem that comes in the form of a pretty young thing who stuck his nose where it didn't belong." He leaned in closer, his face hovering millimeters from the other man's face. Hot breath tickled the younger man's lips, causing bile to rise in his throat. He stopped breathing.

"And, you're starting to _annoy me._"

He studied the younger man for a minute, licking his lips slowly. A smirk emerged, causing the other to squirm. His hand left his face.

The younger man couldn't even exhale before strong fingers enclosed themselves around his throat. He let out a choked cry. His breathing became painful, hardness lodging in his throat. The older man let out a low chuckle.

"It would make this situation much simpler if I were to eliminate the problem, don't you think?"

The younger man's vision began to blur. The man's painful grip made it impossible for him to move. An arm hung at his side, the other was trying desperately to pull the death grip off him. The older man laughed maniacally. He raised the younger man off the ground, looking up at him, eyes widening in excitement at the flashes of pain across his face. The younger man's eyes fell shut.

"Time to be rid of you, meddling whore."


	2. Chapter 1

Oh hey look a first chapter would you look at that. Hope you guys enjoy! (it was a bitch to fricking edit let me tell you) (curse my inability to write things cohesively)

Notes on how I picked names though: From what I could remember Atem didn't have a last name, so I picked whatever Arabic surname would sound the best. Also, Thief King Bakura will indeed be called by his fanon name. Though it isn't a legit Arabic name, from what I've read "akef" is Arabic for "isolated," which is rather idk fitting, so it works?

Well it works for me.

Okay enough of the babbling.

AND SO IT ACTUALLY BEGINS.

* * *

Ryou Bakura's neck was stiff, his entire body tense from lack of sleep. His brown eyes felt swollen, as if they were going to pop out of his head at any minute. Adjusting himself in his seat again, he gazed out of the airplane's window. _Everything looks so tiny, so insignificant_, he noted to himself. The ascent made the city below him gradually shrink into something Ryou could have sworn he'd made a diorama of at some point. Now all he saw was endless amounts of blue, wisps of white clouds decorating the skies.

Ryou squinted, attempting to make out ripples in the sea below. A rather silly mistake, since his eyes began to throb at the action. Heaving a sigh, the young man leaned his cheek against the glass.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since the plane left Narita Airport. A few hours? Maybe more? He just knew his sleepless body was getting increasingly sore with each passing minute. Disheveled, snow white hair fell to cover his face as he leaned his head forward a bit.

Oh how he wanted to just _sleep_.

Ryou had been staring out the window for quite a while, that he knew, anxiously waiting for the blue to melt into solid gold, then to full-fledged cities and towns. This was all he was looking forward to for awhile after all.

It was an internship, and not just any kind of internship; it was an opportunity to work under one of the most respected professors of archeology in Egypt.

His mind began to wander to the months and weeks leading up to his departure. He had already prepared most of his luggage at least a good few months before, locking himself up in his university's library for hours on end, rehashing material he already knew by heart; all the while anxiously awaiting the day where he could break free from his dull student life and apply the skills he had honed and perfected over the years.

The smell of old books began to linger on his fingertips after awhile.

Ryou already knew what was expected of him during his stay at Cairo University, but he was hoping to do much more than just coffee runs, correct papers, and office work. Actual digging perhaps? Deciphering and translating old manuscripts? He was working under Isis Ishtar after all; the only thing that could remotely outshine her accomplishments was her sheer intelligence. She was well-seasoned, highly esteemed, respected.

He'd give just about anything to do work for her outside of getting an espresso.

_Dream all you want Bakura_, he thought to himself.

This trip was all he really cared about after all; he's steeped himself enough in the proper material, and now he was itching to actually apply it.

Chatter rung through the plane, the sounds of complimentary bags of food being torn open and soda cans popping all blended into one giant buzz. He didn't mind it however; the noise only served to comfort him. The young student was already feeling slightly homesick.

If he listened hard enough he could hear the chatter from his fellow intern Yugi Mutou, who was sitting some distance ahead him. Or behind him. Somewhere. Definitely not next to Ryou at least.

_Fellow intern and dorm mate apparently_, he mused to himself.

He's said a grand total of a few words to the short man in the years they've been in school together. Enthusiastic, talkative, and perpetually in a good mood were all the facts Ryou knew about him.

And now he's going to be living with him for an extended period of time.

_Wonder what that'll be like_. . .

Leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Soreness spread through his entire body from insomnia. _A nap would do me good_, he thought to himself. _Lots of good_.

Ryou groaned, adjusting himself slightly and letting his eyelids fall shut. _Hopefully this plane will have landed by the time I wake up,_ he thought wistfully. The first tendrils of sleep soon took over, pulling him into his long awaited slumber.

* * *

It smelled of wood, Ryou had concluded. Wood and. . .clean carpets.

_Something like that_.

Heaving his suitcase onto a small bed, he watched it sink slightly into the mattress before unzipping. They had arrived at their designated dorm rather quickly, the shuttle almost flying through dirt and cities so fast Ryou thought they broke the sound barrier.

Ryou was surprised he didn't somehow end up flying out a window with each sharp turn the driver took.

He, at least, made it to his dorm room in one piece, with a list of things to accomplish. The sleep-depraved man stared down at his luggage now sitting comfortably on his bed. With a soft, almost silent sigh his fingers unzipped a suitcase.

So much time spent packing, organizing, making things neat, fitting for his travels, and all just so that he could empty it back out into a godforsaken heap. He began to gently grab some folded clothes and tossed them near the head of the bed. The pale intern was too drained to really care about his own sloppiness, though he knew it would bother him greatly once his usual alertness came back to him. Shirts and pants were mindlessly thrown out of the black suitcase, some not even making it to the headboard. Ryou stared at the mess for a moment.

_I'll worry about that later,_ he thought.

He could hear the faint buzzing of Yugi's jabber right behind him.

"I hope he likes me," Yugi remarked, bouncing onto Ryou's bed. Ryou looked up from his suitcase briefly to give him a small smile in response.

"I mean, I think I'm a pretty smart guy, right? He'd at least like that about me," Yugi said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a deck of cards. He began to fiddle with them.

Ryou sighed, grinning inwardly. _You brought your cards here too?_ he thought to himself, never voicing the question out loud. _Even for something as serious as an internship you'd bring those._

"What do you think Ryou-kun?" the shorter man asked suddenly.

Ryou looked up into violet eyes. He chuckled. "Who, the professor? I'm sure he'll like you just for the fact that you look like him," he answered, unzipping another luggage bag. _Atem Massad seems full of himself like that_.

Yugi smiled at that. "You think so highly of him."

Ryou shrugged, grabbing a few books and walking over to an old wooden desk near their window. "He's not exactly my cup of tea," he responded simply. He set the books down on the table in a neat stack. _He's not the humblest person in the world._

Yugi shrugged, picking up one of Ryou's shirts and folding it in his lap. "Good thing he chose me and not you then. You get to work under Isis Ishtar though; it doesn't get much better than that."

_Of course not. She's the best there is. I wouldn't have asked for anything else_, Ryou thought with a smile. _I've waited all year for this._ He tossed his now empty luggage bag onto the floor with a huff. He looked up to see Yugi studying him. He blinked. "What?"

The smaller man cocked an eyebrow at him. "You don't talk much do you?"

Ryou blinked in surprise, seeing the corners of Yugi's lips turn over in an almost puzzled frown. Jean-clad knees were pulled up to his chest, his small chin resting on top, _studying _him. The pale man shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I. . .guess so?" _Does it really matter?_

Yugi stared for a few moments longer, before breaking out into a wide grin. "Time for me to fix that!" he declared. He hopped off the bed with a soft thud, running to his own bed.

Ryou stared at him. "Fix wh-"

"Found it!" Yugi exclaimed, yanking his wallet out of his bag. He walked over to Ryou and grabbed his wrist, fingers brushing against his watch. "Come with me to the bazaar. I'm sure you need some stuff from there."

"Bazaar? I don't need anything though," Ryou insisted, feeling nervousness creep into his bloodstream.

"Nonsense. You're probably missing _something_," Yugi said, brushing off the anxiety in his roommate's voice. He started tugging him towards the door.

Ryou eyed him, pulling back against his hand. "I really don't, Mutou-san. Besides, I still need to put my clothes awa-"

"You will need _something_," Yugi concluded, ignoring Ryou's protests. With a final yank, Ryou began to budge.

The taller man stared at the back of Yugi's cartoonish head of hair. _You're so strange_, he mused. _Persistent too. . ._

Ryou heaved a sigh as the door shut behind them, his shoes barely on. _This is going to be a long year._

* * *

The pale intern knew he didn't fair well in social situations. He'd be the first to state such a fact. Even something as simple as asking a sales clerk the price of a pair of pants made his pulse quicken and his hands clammy. His face grew warm at the mere _mention_ of talking to people.

It didn't matter that he'd _want_ to befriend someone. Sure, he'd felt that urge a number of times, the desire to at least hold a conversation with someone for more than just a "thank you" or an "excuse me." The anxiety always won, and he would find himself saying the wrong thing more often than not or he would simply shy away.

It was saddening at first, then frustrating and draining, then simply something he grew to deal with.

He's used to keeping to himself, avoiding talking to people as much as humanly possible. It reduced the stress quite a bit, despite the occasional pangs of loneliness that usually came with such isolation.

Regardless, it was an easy solution, one he stuck with for years. He could at least avoid saying the wrong thing and feeling like he was about to jump out of his own skin.

Yugi, however, seemed to be hell bent on fucking with that.

"You have all the toilet stuff that you need, right Ryou-kun?" Yugi chirped, walking a few feet ahead of the man in question.

Ryou sighed, hugging his arms to his chest. "You mean toiletries, Mutou-san?" he asked, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice. "I have all of those, yes."

"Blankets?"

"Yes."

"Clothes?"

"Currently lying in a mess on my mattress as you saw," Ryou answered. Yugi turned around to look into Ryou's brown eyes.

The pale man gulped silently. _Please stop with the eye contact. . ._

"We'll find something I'm sure," Yugi declared, shooting him an encouraging grin. "Plus, this is a good way for me to get to know you."

_I'd rather not_, Ryou thought, feeling the stress eroding at his already exhausted mind. Not that he minded Yugi. Quite the opposite in fact; he was a nice guy, and probably the first person to ever take an active interest in becoming friends with him since-

Well since ever.

But the stress of trying not to weird him out or offend him was too much for Ryou. He'd rather keep to himself to save the both of them the trouble.

He tended to cause nothing but trouble after all.

Ryou felt a small pang in his chest, but he ignored it. _Those were facts_, he reasoned. _So what?_

"Hey. . .who's that?" Yugi asked, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Ryou felt a nudge at his side. He blinked. ". . .I'm sorry?" he asked rather stupidly.

Yugi frowned, a single eyebrow raised in mild concern. "That guy standing over there," he continued, eyes darting off adjacent to them. "He keeps staring at you. Do you know him from somewhere?"

Ryou's brown eyes pricked with confusion, turning them to where Yugi was looking.

Leaning against a wall was a tall, fit figure. Strong arms leisurely crossed his chest. His skin was dark, and his hair a stark silver. Loose, comfortable clothing adorned his rather athletic frame. Ryou noticed a large scar on his seemingly young face.

Was he talking about that man? A rather smug smirk danced on that face as well.

Then brown met lavender. Ryou's eyes widened, feeling himself freeze up at the sudden eye contact.

The stranger's eyes smoldered in an almost cunning and impish way. They lazily scanned Ryou's body, making the young man feel extremely self conscious.

He couldn't tear himself away from the man's intense gaze; he felt almost cemented to where he stood, all outside happenings becoming utterly insignificant to him. His thought process sputtered to a stop.

He saw a dark lip sink behind a white tooth, the look in the man's eyes becoming even more wicked than before. Ryou felt unease cloud his senses, his mouth going dry. The grin on the man's face widened.

It was as if he knew.

_Uh._

A hard nudge, then a distant voice pulled him out of his trance slightly. He finally ripped his gaze away from the man. Yugi was looking at him with genuine concern. "Are you alright Ryou-kun?" he inquired. "You seemed. . .dazed for a moment."

Ryou blinked, feeling the haze leaving his mind wisp by wisp. He gave him a soft but reassuring smile. "I'm fine!" he answered almost too confidently. "The heat must be getting to me a bit."

Before Yugi could question him further, he wandered off, indifferent to where his feet were taking him. People slipped by him, colors and scents and noises and people now distant from his own senses.

He felt frazzled. Not right at all.

Ryou frowned.

What the hell just happened to him?

He had made eye contact with him. No, not just eye contact; he legitimately _locked_ eyes with the handsome stranger, and he saw the smirk that sneaked onto his face as he almost _leered_ at the younger man.

Leered.

Like he was a piece of meat, or a lost kitten about to be eaten by a bloodthirsty hyena.

Ryou half expected to get frightened of the rather rough-looking man, but he only felt annoyance at the whole silent exchange.

_Do I really look like prey to you? _he muttered inwardly. _The last thing I need is for someone shady to be ogling me like that._

He looked up at his surroundings, realizing where he had wandered into. It was just an average clothing store, with the occasional display of trinkets to greet customers while sifting through the merchandise.

A young dark-haired girl with an armful of clothes nodded at him in greeting. He bowed back in response.

Ryou figured occupying his mind with window shopping would ward off thoughts of the strange man. It didn't help much though; his hands made contact with soft fabric, but his mind was detailing the man's face. Everything from the shaggy mane of silver hair that protruded from his head down to the jagged scar on his left cheek made thinking of clothes difficult to accomplish.

Ryou sighed, chewing his lip, fingers curling around cloth. _I wonder if that scar hurt. . ._

Suddenly he felt his hair stand at the back of his warm neck. Muffled, almost silent footsteps were edging closer and closer to him. He did not hear heavy breathing, as expected from someone who would be rather fit, and he heard the slight brushing of loose clothing flitting with each step. Ryou noted the almost deliberate sound each step had, despite being borderline inaudible.

Something in his gut told him he knew exactly who this person was.

A foreign warmth surrounded him, a hot gust of breath rushing passed his ears. He could feel chills run down his spine, clicking in his brain. Then, finally, a voice.

"That shirt would be more fitting on someone like me, don't you think?"

A deep, baritone voice, something that would fit a certain image that Ryou had conceived in his mind.

Him.

"I'm not particularly fond of it," he replied curtly, shoving himself passed the body behind him. He walked as far away from him as possible, careful to avoid causing a scene. His brown eyes looked up at the figure before him.

It was him alright, standing there in baggy sleeveless hoodie, shorts, and sneakers. He had the same smirk on his face, the leer in his eyes still glinting and making Ryou just the slightest bit uncomfortable.

_What the hell does he want with me?_

The stranger cocked his head to the side. "Red seems to be my color actually. You have good taste."

Ryou stared at him for a moment. The stranger's arms were crossed over his chest, and those dark lavender eyes were scanning his entire body. Ryou blinked.

"That's great," he answered dully, still staring down the stranger before him. "Did you follow me here?"

The taller man chuckled. "My aren't we a little narcissistic?" he drawled, sauntering over to the white-haired student. Ryou began to back up, only to, unfortunately, end up against a wall.

The stranger closed the distance between them, now standing less than a foot away from the young man. "I just happen to be going to the same place," the man continued, leaning in slightly. He studied Ryou's face for a moment, making the smaller man feel even edgier than before.

"You seem so nervous," he commented, his smirk widening almost wolfishly. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Ryou took a deep breath, his eyes darting around to find a good escape from the man who now was standing merely inches from him, a large hand now planted next to his head.

He smelt of smoke and sand, a rather weird combination of scents in Ryou's opinion. He still had that same smug expression on his face, and he seemed to not feel like budging from his spot in Ryou's personal bubble.

He needed a game plan. He needed to get the hell out of there. _Isn't there something else he could be doing with his time? _Ryou thought._ Reading a book? Buying a key chain? Something?!_

"You're in my personal space, sir," he answered shortly, refusing to make eye contact with him. Deep laughter rattled his eardrums.

"My aren't we proper?" he muttered, amusement dancing in his voice. Ryou turned his face away, looking at the display to his left instead of the man currently standing too close to him.

Way too close.

Then, he felt a calloused finger slide under his chin, turning his face towards the stranger's. "Can't even make eye contact with me I see?"

Ryou remained calm, deadpanned, refusing to look into his eyes just yet. His mind was still working on a solution to his predicament. The stranger made a clicking noise.

"Such an impolite thing to do," he chuckled, almost sardonically. "I expected better of someone as well-kept as yourself."

_Well-kept? What the hell does he even mean by that? _Ryou wondered, still studying his surroundings and the stranger's actions. He paused.

He had to be targeting him for something. Anything. Was he just that bored or what?

_There's something off about him. . ._

He felt the fingers leave his chin, then a hand land on his thin arm, making him jerk away and hit it against the back wall. Ryou winced, earning yet another chuckle from the athletic man before him.

_Asshole_.

"You shouldn't be scared," the man drawled.

Ryou couldn't help but snort.

"Can you back off now?" he hissed, his patience wearing thin. He finally turned his gaze and stared into lavender, searching for some motive for his actions. The man hid them well, only roguish humor evident in his eyes. Ryou's expression hardened and melted into one of utter disdain.

He was getting a kick out of Ryou's irritation wasn't he?

"Fine," the man answered abruptly, backing away from the younger man. Ryou blinked, feeling an unsettling mixture of relief and unease in the pit of his stomach start to coat its walls.

_What?_

The man began to walk away, his baggy red top undulating with each stride. Ryou listened to his footsteps again; soft. Almost inaudible thudding against stone. The stranger suddenly turned around, locking eyes yet again with the student.

Ryou froze. The man smirked.

"Hope we can meet once again," he said, an almost lewd smile on his face. "I'm sure I can prove to you just how _comfortable_ you can be around me." Ryou's stomach flipped and contorted at the suggestiveness of his statement. The man turned on his heels and strode out of the little shop without another word.

Ryou rolled his eyes. "Don't count on it," he murmured.

A few tense moments passed before his shoulders relaxed. A murmur of words bounced off his eardrums, but failed to register in his mind. He turned his face up towards an older man with a dark complexion and skin as worn as leather.

"I said are you alright, sir?" he asked, his voice gruff but concerned. "Was that guy bothering you?"

_You ask me this _now?! Ryou thought exasperatedly. "I'm fine," he answered softly, casting his eyes down to the ground. He heard the man throw a few more words at him, but his feet were already carrying him out the door. He bumped into a few wayward customers, earning a string of soft apologies from the shy intern.

It was after a few awkward bumps and dodges that he finally made it outside and into the vivacious atmosphere of the bazaar. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, wincing as his fingers caught in a few tangles.

. . .who was he anyway? What did he want from him? Did simple eye contact induce this kind of reaction from him? Was there a strange look on his own face when he looked at the rugged man?

The sweat began to bead on his neck and forehead, dripping down his skin and creating wet splotches on his white cotton shirt. The sun was blaring down like hellfire, blazing across his sensitive skin, and Ryou wanted nothing more than to get back into his designated dorm and have a nice bath and a change of clothes.

Away from this bazaar, and for sure _far away_ from that creep.

He began to dart his way through the crowd towards the dusty streets, not wishing to wait for Yugi to finish his own adventures. A few stray merchants yelled prices and words about "absolutely necessary" products at the young intern, only to fall on deaf ears. Ryou sighed.

No matter how many times his mind wandered off to other miscellaneous matters, it always came flying back to images of that man like some sadistic boomerang.

It bothered Ryou. It really bothered him. He wasn't used to interactions, let alone being herded up against a wall and practically solicited. The man had intentions, other than making the young intern's skin crawl. That's what really puzzled him. He had a reason to follow him into the shop and to scan his body like that and corner him and touch his arm and-

_Wait_

Ryou's hand shot to his wrist. Bare.

"The ass stole my watch!"

* * *

Thanks for reading! And lots of thanks to my first two reviewers StorySongs and Miss Macabre Grey. Hope you liked this chapter~ (:


	3. Chapter 2

Ryou wasn't exactly sure what to expect when he first sent in his resume to Cairo University. He didn't expect to actually get the internship for one, the surprise hitting him hard when he finally opened that sealed envelope. He definitely didn't expect to find himself holed up in a cozy dorm with a short man whose loud hair was only partially challenged by his penchant for conversation. Nor did he really expect for said man to actually direct his jabber in his general direction.

How can one person have so much to say? That Ryou could never comprehend.

The pale intern had met with a few surprises since the word "internship" and "Ryou" somehow ended up in the same sentence together. Some were pleasant, some were mildly bothersome, and some didn't affect Ryou one way or another.

And then some downright infuriated Ryou.

Like getting his watch stolen by a cocky, arrogant pickpocket in the middle of a clothing store.

_Asshole_.

Ryou stood in front of the small bathroom mirror, running a brush through his hair for the umpteenth time. It was always one stray hair that seemed to evade him, sticking out and almost _mocking_ him for being so neat.

He found himself picturing the same smirk he saw on the pickpocket's face from the day before.

_Major asshole_.

Setting the brush carefully on the counter, Ryou stared at his reflection for a few seconds. He leaned in, lips pulling back to reveal his already twice-brushed teeth. Brown eyes scrutinized each tooth, as if daring for any stray piece of food to come creeping out from the crevices in between.

No such bad luck. Ryou smiled.

He stepped back to get a fuller view. A decent choice of clothing, at least Ryou hoped so; a button-down white shirt and a pair of fitting dark slacks adorned the thin intern. Ryou had ironed the shirt twice the night before, and once again before he took the most thorough shower he had taken in his life.

Can't afford to smell like curry and sweat on your first day of work, right?

_This isn't overkill. Nope_.

Ryou tugged gingerly at the hem of his shirt, then smoothed it over with his palms. Did he miss a wrinkle? How unprofessional would that look if he walked around with a wrinkled shirt? He didn't want to look like he just rolled out of bed.

Ryou sighed. _Maybe I should iron it one more time. . ._

"Ryou-kun, you've been standing in front of that mirror for way too long," a voice chirped from the door. Ryou turned to meet excitable violet eyes and equally excitable hair. Yugi shot him a grin, he himself clothes in a white collared shirt, navy blue slacks, and a navy blue blazer.

The pale intern gave him a sheepish smile. "I'm just making sure I don't look. . ." _Well bad_.

"You look great! Don't sweat it," Yugi declared, leaning against the door frame. "And besides, if you brush your hair any more your hair will fall out."

"I'm not sure that's how it works, Mutou-san," Ryou chuckled. _Though it's probably not good for it. . ._

"Just call me Yugi-kun. Friends don't need such proper honorifics," Yugi said, grinning from ear to ear.

Ryou blinked. _Friends? I've only known you for a day._

"Even after you ditched me at the bazaar yesterday," Yugi commented with a laugh. "I can't believe you got robbed our first day here!"

_You make it sound like an accomplishment_, Ryou thought. His lips turned into a thin line. "Yeah. Not a fun time," he said. Heaving a sigh, he headed towards the door. Yugi stepped aside to let him through.

"Are you going to call police on that thief?" Yugi asked. Ryou imagined his purple eyes widening in curiosity and it made him chuckle inwardly. "I mean you got a good look of the guy. I'm sure they'd be able to catch him."

_Yeah a little bit too good if you ask me_, Ryou thought grimly. The thought had occurred to him to alert some sort of authority, since he was almost positive this wasn't the guy's first theft. Ideally, he'd let some law enforcer know about it, right?

_But how do I even know if the police here would do anything? I've never even dealt with the police back in Japan; I wouldn't know the first thing about working with the Egyptian police_, Ryou thought to himself. The idea of even talking to a stranger about his experience made him nervous enough; he'd rather avoid the situation altogether to save everyone the trouble.

And besides, it was an easily-replaceable watch. No need to get cops involved.

"No," he answered simply. "I think I'm going to let it go." _For now._

Ryou let the silence hang between them, though he was sure Yugi wanted to say something to him about his answer. His mind was preoccupied with other matters, matters that did not revolve around Yugi's quest to make Ryou more talkative and to retrieve that damned watch back.

His messenger bag had been packed with the essentials. Pencils, folders, binders, pens, notebooks, he made sure to stuff it all inside. Ryou was the type to make sure he was prepared, largely due to his innate fear of having to ask someone to borrow something. If he could avoid that conversation, and all it took was to carry an entire office supply store in his bag, then so be it.

It did make for really awful shoulder aches, however.

The bag sat patiently on his bed, a black and army green thing ready to accompany Ryou on his first day as Isis Ishtar's intern. Ryou found himself staring at it for a few seconds. He briefly wondered if he was missing something, anything; surely he had everything in order, right?

_Right?_

His hands clasped together in front of him, wringing nervously. A gentle pat on the back stirred him from his thoughts. Yugi gave him an encouraging smile.

"Hey, don't be so nervous. You'll be fine. You have everything you need, you look spiffy, and I'm sure Professor Ishtar will love you," Yugi said gently. He smiled.

Ryou blinked. The words were oddly kind to his ears, something he wasn't completely used to. "Um thank you Muto-. . .Yugi-kun," he responded, giving him a small smile. "It's just nerves I suppose."

"You'll be great!" Yugi said, finality in his voice. "Jounouchi-kun used to always say this one thing whenever we had something big ahead of us."

Ryou cocked an eyebrow at that. He knew of the blond, rather obnoxious friend of Yugi's. "Oh?"

"Yeah! He always said. . ." Yugi's eyebrows furrowed for a moment, head turned towards the ceiling as if searching for the answer there. His eyes widened suddenly, snapping his fingers in realization with an "ah!". Ryou jumped at the noise.

"Semper ubi sub ubi!" Yugi said, hands landing on his hips in triumph.

Ryou paused. ". . .and what exactly does that mean, Yugi-kun?"

Yugi blinked at Ryou, and grinned again. "'Always wear under where!"

"What? That doesn't even make-" Ryou's mouth shut immediately in realization. "Wait."

Yugi simply grinned widely at him, as if he told Ryou the greatest proverb in the history of mankind. Ryou sighed. _Leave it to Jounouchi to say something like that_. _Mature._

"Er, thanks Yugi-kun."

"Anytime Ryou-kun!"

* * *

Ten minutes. It would have taken him ten minutes to get to Isis's office. Give or take a few minutes, of course, if you factored in the handful of moments where his artful dodging of people didn't quite work out. Not to mention his tendency to stop in front of every bulletin board he finds just to see what pamphlets and fliers were pinned to it.

He saw more Kaiba Corps ads than he cared to mention.

In total, at the _most_ it would take him about twelve minutes to get to her office. Though it was in a building a bit far from his dorm, he was a fast walker and tended to cut his transit time in half compared to his peers.

So of course he'd leave twenty minutes early just to be sure he wasn't even a bit late, right?

_On time is late after all_, Ryou thought to himself.

Currently Ryou was leaning against a wall outside of Isis's office. His bag had landed with a plop on the hard floor, earning a look from a professor a few doors down. Ryou blushed, muttering an apology before sinking to the ground.

He brought his wrist to his face to check the time, only to realize the problem with his action.

_Major __**major**_ _asshole._

He let his brown eyes drift close, inhaling slow, deep breaths. The hall was rather quiet, save for a few professors opening and closing their doors. No students, no large crowds, no loud noises; a perfect time for Ryou to relax.

Ten minutes. Ten. . .no maybe five minutes until his professor would open the door and face her newest intern. Possibly even a little later. Ryou leaned back against the wall and opened his messenger bag.

It didn't take him long to find himself a notebook and a pen to write with (he made doubly sure everything was arranged neatly to avoid dealing with an explosion of office supplies). Soon the pale intern had flipped the little black spiral bound notebook open and was doodling.

Ryou didn't think of himself much as an artist or really all that creative. His father had praised him numerous times for his dioramas, he had been a master at mending his sister's dolls whenever she did god knows what to them, not to mention his knack for creating figurines for his many ventures into tabletop rpg games. Drawing, however, was never something he made an effort to perfect. It did ease his stress, however, and he would be lying if he said he didn't find it at least a little bit fun.

Besides, who wouldn't smile at little fanged ghosts pointing at important stuff in your notes?

. . .maybe some people wouldn't, but they weren't using his notes for studying or reference purposes. No matter to them.

Currently, Ryou had drawn out a rather large ghost on his front page, complete with big, pitch black eyes and a little fanged smile. A simple little cartoon, he had thought to himself. He stared at the drawing for a few moments, a comforting silence easing his active mind. White hair fell off his shoulder as he tilted his head to the side.

_This is the first page. . ._he mused to himself. _I should give him a. . ._

He drew a few lines protruding from the ghost's small arms, then glided the pen a few more times on the paper before pulling it back with a smile.

Ryou's little ghost was now holding a sign with the phrase "Welcome!" scratched in messy Arabic on it. Something pleasant for him to open his notebook up to.

_But there's still something missing. . ._

Ryou clicked his pen closed and placed it neatly back in his bag, his thin fingers grasping a few more in its place. He pulled back his hand, took out the color he was seeking, and put the other ones back. The ghost stared back at his creator, his grin still wide and holding the sign for him enthusiastically. A small smile crept onto Ryou's own face, clicking the pen open and adding his final touch.

_Ah, there you go._

"Do all ghosts wear red bow ties, Mr. Bakura?"

Ryou froze mid-coloring.

So much for being relaxed and ready.

The pale (now completely flushed red) intern looked up to the owner of the voice. Donned in a dark-colored long dress and matching shoes and hijab, Isis Ishtar was staring down at the flustered young man with a playful smile on her face. One hand held a decent sized briefcase, while the other was placed on her hip. She looked at him with friendly blue eyes.

"I um," Ryou answered smartly. ". . .s-some maybe?" _Real smart Bakura._

Isis laughed lightly at his response. "I suppose so." Her free hand reached into her dress's pocket to pull out a set of keys. "We can have a proper introduction once we get into my office."

_You mean you can see me make a bigger fool out of myself?_ Ryou thought dryly to himself.

Isis walked towards the door. "Come."

"Yes ma'am," Ryou responded politely, jumping to his feet and grabbing his belongings. He dropped the strap on his shoulder, which he soon learn was a mistake due to how heavy the wretched thing was. A silent, pained groan escaped his lips. Isis already had the door open, holding it for Ryou as he shuffled inside. She shut the door behind them delicately.

"I know we already know of each other, but I feel like a good and proper introduction would be in order," she said smoothly. Ryou turned, brown eyes falling on her outstretched hand. "I'm Professor Isis Ishtar, and I will be your boss for the remaining school year."

Ryou blinked, then took her hand delicately. "I'm Ryou Bakura," he responded, his voice irritatingly soft to his ears. "It's nice to meet you."

Isis gave him a gentle smile. "It's nice to meet you too Mr. Bakura." She let go of his hand and briskly walked to her desk. "And there's no need to be so nervous. I don't bite."

_Yeah but I have diarrhea of the mouth_, Ryou thought to himself, breathing in. He paused. "I'm sorry," he said, still feeling nervous. He brought a finger to his head and scratched. "I never thought I'd actually get this internship."

"Your work was stellar, along with your record. There was no better choice in my opinion," Isis responded, pulling her chair back with a creak before settling down.

Ryou blushed at the compliments. "Thank you ma'am," he responded quietly, bowing lightly out of habit. "I try."

"Yes, and you'll be trying even harder since you're working with me," Isis joked lightly. She set her elbows on the mahogany desk, clasped her hands together, and set her chin delicately on top. "Now tell me, Ryou Bakura," she began, startling the young man with the use of his full name. "What was it that intrigued you about my country's history?"

Yes, what did spark Ryou's interest in Egypt? What exactly drove him towards years of almost religious-like studying on such a subject?

He could say he got it from his father, an understandable reason. Nao Bakura was an esteemed archaeologist himself, spending quite a bit of his time in the ruins of Ancient Egypt doing much of the work Ryou was hoping to do as well. Egypt seemed to be a second home for Ryou's father, borderline his actual home since he seemed to spend more time in Giza than he did at home in Japan.

When he did come home, the few times he _did_ even come home, he always smelled of sand and spices, and was always ready with souvenirs for him and his excitable sister.

Ryou felt a tiny pang in his chest at the memory. He let his eyes fall shut for the briefest of seconds before looking at Isis's blue eyes, clasping his hands in front of him and tilting his head to the side.

"You could say it was sort of predetermined, I suppose," he answered.

"You mean like destiny? That's quite superstitious of you," Isis replied, smiling at his words.

Ryou let out a small laugh. "I guess so."

Isis's smile seemed to widen at that, but it quickly cooled. She lowered her hands onto the desk. "You know, Mr. Bakura. I've had quite a few projects under my belt, some small and some rather large."

Ryou's hands tightened as he listened attentively.

"Including one right now actually, but I have yet to really talk about it," she continued. She leaned down to open a drawer with a crisp click. "I could use your skills for it."

The pale intern's eyes widened. "Really?" he asked, trying to keep his excitement to a minimum. Isis Ishtar offering him an opportunity such as that was something he could only dream of happening.

"Yes," Isis answered simply. She pulled out a small notepad and pen. "I'm sure you're familiar with Professor Massad's research about Pharaoh Atem, no?"

Ryou nodded, remembering how his fellow students back at his university were buzzing about it. Isis continued. "Though it was a rather glamorous finding for him, Pharaoh Atem's tomb, and has a rather nice story to go along with it, I have no interest in the royalty at that time."

The pale intern blinked at that. _Then what is she interested in. . .?_

"You seem puzzled by that," Isis commented with a knowing smile. "No matter. Some people are fascinated with the protagonist. I happen to be more interested in the antagonist, the character that seems to get brushed off in favor of the hero."

Ryou tilted is head to the side at that. "Antagonist?"

Isis gave a gentle laugh. "You'll see soon enough. For now I have your first task as my intern."

The pale intern's gaze focused on Isis's hand as it scribbled a few lines on the notepad before tearing the page off cleanly. "I'm sure you'll be able to accomplish this, no?"

Ryou walked over and gently took the paper from her outstretched hand. _Of course!_ he thought to himself. _I'll be able to sho-_

He looked at the note.

"Tall caramel macchiato and a croissant sandwich?"

"Yes," she answered with a sly smile. She reached into her pocket, took out a slim wallet, and pulled out a few pounds. "It's also quite hot outside. A white collared shirt was probably not the best of ideas."

Ryou flushed in embarrassment. _Well duh Bakura. Swell job already_.

". . .I'll run out and bring this to you promptly."

"Good. Thank you very much Mr. Bakura."

* * *

Ryou thanked every god in existence for the close distance of the coffee shop near the university.

Of course, Isis's comment was correct; it was simply too hot to be wearing the kind of attire he had picked out, the stiff cloth already sticking to his heated skin in the most uncomfortable of ways. Casual clothes and shorts, at least, would have complimented the simmering conditions much better than his original choice.

Lucky for Ryou that he didn't sweat much. Though he sweated enough to make him groan and wish desperately for a shower.

The streets of Giza outside of the university were oddly quiet, save for some rogue bicycle riders and students running in and out of the gates. The day was clear; not a single wisp of cloud could be found against the bright blue of the sky. Though the sun was beating down on Egypt like hell, Ryou admitted it was a rather beautiful and peaceful day.

Ryou had made it to the coffee shop in a record few minutes. The door swung open gently with a ding of a bell, the cold air inside bringing welcoming relief to the flushed intern. He stood there for a few seconds, soaking the chilled air in before being nudged by a customer trying to get through the door. Ryou blushed and apologized before shuffling to the side.

The shop was just as quiet as it was outside, Ryou noted. Students and a few adults occupied various spots in the shop, some on couches with their studying materials, while others took to tables with their companions. The lighting was dull, but relaxing. The chatter was silent, and even the machines had a quiet hum to them.

_Pleasant_, Ryou thought.

His feet carried him leisurely to the line, which consisted of only two other people seeking caffeine boosts and possibly some snacks. Ryou stood a fair distance behind the young man in front of him, his hands crossed behind his back and his feet merely a few millimeters apart.

Antagonist. Isis had said she was interested in the "antagonist" of the "story." Ryou furrowed his brow at her choice of words. It surprised him enough that she wanted no part in Massad's discovery (though he figured the man wouldn't want to share the glory), nor did she care for the pharaoh at all. Ryou knew the basics of Pharaoh Atem's rule, including who was on his court, who had tried to oppose him, the essentials. People who would fill the role of "antagonist" weren't coming to mind for him.

A small but goofy grin formed on his face. He wondered how much of an ego boost it was for Massad to be bearing the same name as this great pharaoh. Hell, Ryou wondered if he actually thought he was a descendent from him.

_Yeah, and I'm the reincarnation of a street thug from ancient times_.

God only knows how much attention he already got for his ridiculous tri-colored hair. Yugi seemed to do a very good job at recreating it himself, though Ryou thought it looked ridiculous on them both.

_Is it even normal to have hair like that when you're an archaeologist?_ he mused to himself. _How unpractical. . ._

"Ow fuck! Watch where you're going dammit!"

Ryou's thoughts immediately skidded to a stop, his whole body tensing. The voice was familiar to him, all too familiar.

. . .it couldn't be, could it?

Ryou's brown eyes turned to the side and caught a glimpse of silver hair heading towards a table in the far back, the victim of his harsh words scrambling away to the exit. He turned his head to get a fuller view.

_How serendipitous._

The silver-haired pickpocket from the bazaar plopped down in the cushioned seat, now donning a simple tank top and shorts. The scar on his face was just as big as Ryou had remembered, the man just as fit and tall as he remembered as well. The man crossed his arms over his chest, checking his wrist impatiently.

Ryou had almost yelled in utter exasperation at the action, only to realize the man's watch was black, and not gold like _his_ was.

The one that the arrogant thief had taken, of course.

Ryou wanted to say something, to walk up to the thief and give the man a piece of his mind. An unusual burst of anger flooded his body. Just the thought of that arrogant smirk made his blood boil, and there was something about the man that ticked the pale, usually shy intern off.

Maybe it was the man's smug demeanor, or his lack of a very nice gold watch, or maybe he was just sick of running into jerks like him.

_Looks like he hasn't noticed me yet_, Ryou mused. _I can just go over there and-_

The thief looked up to greet a tall man in a fitting, black suit, nodding as he sat down next to him. The suited man's hair was slicked back, dark as night, his skin tan but looking well protected from the harsh Egyptian sun, and looked to be the definition of opulent.

And the complete opposite of the rather mangy pickpocket.

Curious.

Ryou's head tilted to the side slightly, studying the odd pair. The suited man sat straight in his chair, hands placed nonchalantly on the table and his legs pulled together. A stark contrast to the laid back pickpocket, whose legs were crossed angle to knee, his arms settled behind his head, as if slightly bored.

The suited man, though he looked professional, didn't come off as a man of high class to the intern. Or, rather, honorable class. The man's red eyes unsettled him, his pupils completely void of anything. No boredom, no seriousness, no mischief. Absolutely nothing. And he was studying the thief with an almost hawk-like intensity, his thin mouth moving in an almost calculating manner.

Despite the pickpocket's casual body language, he seemed to be listening with rapt attention, nodding at every other thing that escaped the suited man's mouth.

The older man's air threw him off, and it threw him off even more that he was meeting with the arrogant pickpocket in, of all places, a coffee shop in the darkest corner of the room.

It was a noir scene. Almost cliché, laughable if Ryou really thought about it.

_What are they talking about I wonder. . .?_

"Sir?"

Ryou blinked, turning his head.

"You're next in line, right?"

The cashier looked at him, looking slightly annoyed at the intern's obliviousness. "You have an order?"

Ryou flushed. "Um y-yes. I'm sorry." He strode towards the register, reading off Isis's order from memory.

Once the cashier got the information she needed, Ryou stood to the side, taking one last glance over towards the pickpocket's direction.

_You're even shadier than I thought_.

"Order ready for Ryou!"

He grabbed the drink and the bag and walked out of the shop, the door dinging goodbye as it shut behind him.

* * *

He couldn't remember how quickly he arrived back at Isis's office, nor could he really remember the walk itself. Ryou was too preoccupied to really care, anyway.

Why did it intrigue him so much, to see the pickpocket interact with someone like that man? Ryou couldn't explain that. His curiosity was piqued, however, and once Ryou's interested, it was hard for him to really think of anything else.

The intern was good at people watching, after all. Which wasn't creepy at all, not to him at least.

_I wonder what you're up to. . ._

Ryou's thin hands knocked delicately on Isis's wooden door. He was greeted by his professor's smiling face, the door opening with a creak as Ryou walked inside. It shut behind him with a click.

"Tall caramel macchiato and a croissant sandwich," he said with a smile, setting it gently on her desk. "Just as you ordered."

Isis chuckled, moving to sit back down at her desk. "You should have gotten something for yourself," she commented, taking a sip from her drink. "You're quite skinny for your age."

Ryou flushed at the comment. " B-but I eat enough," he insisted quietly. _I eat when I have to._

His professor waved her hand in disapproval. "Enough isn't enough, Mr. Bakura." Ryou shifted on his feet, looking down at the wooden floor. Isis smiled.

"You know what I think?"

Ryou looked up into her blue eyes, blinking. "What?"

"You'll probably not have a good meal tonight for dinner," she stated simply, opening the small plastic bag to pull out her food. "And _I _think, someone who will be working as hard as yourself, deserves to have at least one full home-cooked Egyptian meal on your first night as my intern."

The pale man looked at her, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm inviting you to my place for dinner," Isis clarified, amused by the look on his face. "I have a good feeling about you, Mr. Bakura, and I'd like to learn more about your work at Domino City University." She took another sip from her drink. "Plus, I can tell you more about my own project."

The intern's jaw hung open slightly. Was his esteemed, amazing, highly respected professor inviting the shy and awkward Ryou Bakura over for dinner?

Was he getting invited over for dinner at all?

"Would you care to join us?" Isis said, interrupting Ryou's train of thought.

Ryou jolted slightly, then nodding and bowing awkwardly out of habit. "Yes of course ma'am," he answered, unsure of how else to respond. He looked up when the last word of her question clicked in his mind. "Us?"

"My brothers and me," she answered with a slight smile.

Ryou blinked. "Brothers?"

"Yes, but don't worry about them; I'm sure they won't be a bother to you," she said smoothly, pulling out a few folders from her desk. "One is older than you by a good few years, very quiet and stoic, and one is exactly your age, though a bit of a boisterous young man, and the other-"

"Professor Ishtar? Class is starting in fifteen minutes," a deep voice called from the door. Ryou turned to see a man with graying hair nod in her direction, arms full of books and files. He walked away without another word.

"Class time for us, Mr. Bakura," Isis said, getting up to put he croissant in a small refrigerator on the side. "My students are excited to meet you."

_Excited? Me?_ "Oh um," he murmured, moving to grab his messenger bag. "I hope I won't disappoint them."

"You won't," she insisted, balancing her coffee in one hand and her briefcase in another. "I'm never wrong, after all."

Ryou smiled at the comment, moving to open the door for her. "I hope so."

* * *

Class was over sooner than Ryou could blink, a strange occurrence considering how awfully nervous he was even before stepping into the medium-sized lecture hall. In the most cliché of ways, all eyes were on him when he stood next to his professor, the gazes a mixture of awe and keen interest.

He tried his best not to fidget under the scrutiny, choosing to keep his shoulders from slacking and his head held high, something he wasn't used to doing.

Isis seemed to be right, much to the shy intern's surprise; the students seemed to warm up to him as her lecture went on, even coming up to him after class to shower him with various questions.

He had tried his best not to panic at the sudden swarm of rather energetic students. They were curious after all. No harm done, right?

Some asked about his country, some even confessed to attempting to learn Japanese (though Ryou had to correct them on more than a couple of phrases), and some seemed they were in genuine need of help with the lessons and homework.

What are interns for, right?

After telling the students that he'd be able to help them after the next lesson (much to their happiness, again something Ryou didn't expect) he had made a beeline to his dorm. And in the midst of Yugi's excited chatter about his day and his own interrogation about Ryou's, the intern managed to pull out several different outfits of choice for Isis's dinner that night.

Ryou didn't exactly pride himself in his fashion sense, nor did he think he even had one. At least Yugi was useful in that retrospect.

Currently the young intern in question was exiting the bus and making his way up the street towards Isis's home. Thankfully the walk wasn't too long, but it was enough of a distance to give Ryou a moment with his own thoughts.

It took Yugi a good half hour of convincing in order to get him in the outfit he was currently in. A simple pair of fitting black jeans, comfortable shoes, a gray cardigan and a lightweight white shirt made up the ensemble, a look Ryou personally felt was a little too preppy for him.

"Oh come on!" Yugi had insisted, shoving the outfit towards the exasperated intern. "It'll look great on you! Trust me, I know a thing or two about fashion."

. . .if his hair was any testament to that, Ryou was sure he'll look ridiculous once he arrived at Isis's doorstep.

Ryou had relented, and was essentially shoved out the door when he spent a minute too long on his hair and teeth.

"Stop being so anal!" Yugi had said as he pushed the taller man away from the mirror and towards their dorm room's door. "You. Look. _Fine._ Have I ever steered you wrong?"

_Give it some time Yugi-kun, I'm sure you will eventually_.

Ryou chuckled at the memory, however stressful it seemed. At least he didn't look like a complete fool, and was definitely in a more comfortable outfit than earlier that day.

The sun had already set, with the moon peeking out behind a few clouds. The air was comfortably cool, and it made Ryou feel almost excited when he neared the iron gates of his professor's house.

He was still more nervous than excited, but that wasn't a surprise.

After a few minutes the young intern was at the gate's door in front of Isis's home. With gentle hands he unhooked it, stepped inside gingerly, and shut it with a quiet clink.

The house itself was very geometric. Squares stacked on top of more squares, with a yellowing lawn and clean windows, the walls of the house painted a dark hue of red. Ryou assumed that extended periods of hot sun and droughts discouraged Isis and her family from bothering to even try to keep the lawn green.

Ryou walked up the stone pathway, doing his customary surveying of his surroundings. Soon his feet had guided him to the doorstep, face to face with a muted-colored door. The slight nervousness he felt before suddenly became stronger, but he swallowed it down with a gulp.

_I'm sure everything will be alright,_ he assured himself. He pressed the doorbell shyly, crossing his arms behind his back.

Ryou looked down at his light gray sweater, suddenly hyper aware of the thin cloth against his skin.

_I wonder if this looks nice enough_, he mused. _Maybe I should have gone with a blaze-_

"Well then. Looks like _I _should be the one worried about getting followed, shouldn't I?"

Ryou's body immediately tensed up, his muscles rigid. He had to be dreaming. No, this had to be a _nightmare. _A really shitty joke of some sort.

_You have __**got**_ _to be kidding me._

His brown eyes shot up to see the one face he wasn't expecting to see at his respectable professor's home. Not by a long shot.

Large scar, impish lavender eyes, wild silver hair.

"You _again?!_"

* * *

Can't get away from the jerk, can you my dear Ryou?

Anyway this chapter was surprisingly easy to write, and some hints were dropped as to where this story will progress. Things will get even shadier for our poor intern. (not to mention a reference thrown in here) (kudos to anyone who caught it)

Thank you for all of those who reviewed/favorited my fic! I hope you guys enjoyed this one~

Also, as per request, shout out to my beta redpandasyndrome (aka "$w3474r k41b4 from k41b4c0rp"). Thank you for weeding out all my typos!


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